Circus Isle
by Helena Lucia
Summary: A young Namikaze Minato spends the night wandering the festive-bright streets of a drunken city, the edges of his vision blurred with the illusion of sobriety. -Contains hints of disturbing content and underage. Can be interpreted as you will.-


_**Heat**_

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_**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or said characters.  
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_**Warnings: Vaguely disturbing content. Can be interpreted as hints of slash or gen.**_

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_A young Namikaze Minato spends the night wandering the festive-bright streets of a drunken city, the edges of his vision blurred with the illusion of sobriety._

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The weather in Fire Country is uncommonly hot during the summer months this year. A humid, sweltering heat made oppressive by the bright sunshine. Jiraiya seems mostly unaffected by it, light currents of shifting _chakra_ regulating his core temperature, and Minato muses that his teacher's refusal show him the technique is just sadistic incentive for him to figure it out on his own.

He has been apprenticed to Jiraiya for long enough to acquiesce gracefully when the man suggests that they stop for the night in Tanzaku City, apparently at the height of some fortnight-long celebrations.

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Minato lies on the edge of his _futon_ in the rented room at the hotel, watching Jiraiya browse what could either be classified information or perverse literature, sipping at his cup of sake in the dim half-light.

His fingers look strange against the small cup, emphasising the delicacy of the ceramic, and the firm lines of Jiraiya's broad hands. He sets down the saucer in exchange for a fine-edged paint-brush as Minato shifts again, feeling sweat beading on his back as he observes the relaxed lounge Jiraiya exhibits in spite of the temperature.

_ "I have no doubt that you've already dissected the core regulation technique several times and could perform it flawlessly within a day, but that isn't the point, kid."_ Jiraiya had smirked._ "An exercise in endurance, you could say." _

Minato bites back a moan, the stifling heat prickling at the back of his neck and down his thighs as the sheets drag against his skin. He feels lightheaded, the sounds of intoxicated merry-making seeming distant against the light scratch of ink and paper from Jiraiya's brush.

There are no doubt a number of techniques he could use if he wasn't certain that the energy expended simply would not be worth the result. Instead he wishes he could slither out of his clothes, and press himself into the cool floorboards near his mentor's half-full sake bottle.

"_Minato_." Jiraiya is saying, a strange inflection in his tone when the blond turns hazy, fever-blue eyes on the Sannin. The expensive sake smells wonderful from where he lays, barely countered by the fact that he despises the taste.

_It's just the heat._ He thinks, arching into the sheets. There's a warm flush on his cheeks when Jiraiya glances at him curiously.

"Go on, kid." His mentor says a moment later. "There's a festival a little farther down the road, and you look like you need some air."

Minato slips off the _futon_ and into his sandals, feeling Jiraiya's gaze on his back as he moves towards the window.

"I won't be too long, Sensei." He murmurs, listening for the Sannin's grunt of approval before he drops out of the window and onto street below.

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The heated press of bodies and drunken laughter is distracting as Minato slips through the crowd, his conspicuous _shinobi_ head-band having been left with his teacher.

He senses the nearly predatory scrutiny on him as he drifts by the casinos and pleasure houses, near the fair grounds and circus arena. The colourful mixture of scents and sounds is dizzying, combined with the glittering lights and shadows which surround row after row of decorated tents. The air is thick and alluring with the lingering traces of festive hedonism.

One large tent in particular is cloaked by the incandescent streaks of a subtle _genjutsu_, blending with the heat into compelling abstraction.

The heavy drapes shift with an illusory breeze and Minato follows the insubstantial shadow into the tent. It is dark within, the sights and sounds from outside dampened by foreign _chakra_ and the heady smell of exotic incense. An empty cage hangs from the main support, paper lamps offering a soft orange light in contrast to the scent of dark wine.

The drapes flutter as a shadow emerges, dressed in the flowing robes of a circus physic. Her hair is bright with the characteristic Uzumaki red. "Are you here to have your future read, beloved?" She enquires, appraising him with grey eyes beneath lowered lashes. The off-white stone she wears on her brow gleams against her olive-toned skin.

Minato has no need for his future to be read by a false illusionist wearing a clairvoyant's flesh. "Yes." He replies anyway, voice pitched low. The empty cage rattles.

He moves to face her, sensing the strange _chakra_ which swirls in wisps around the cage. Her hands falter over his eyelids and then drift down his face to trace his lips and the flush painted on his cheekbones.

"_Shinobi_ child." The chimera whispers, unsurprised. "Which sort of demon shall you become?" Her hands are cold against his skin, across his ribs and down his spine. Minato feels the _genjutsu_ fracture and tighten around them. The cage rattles as his hand slips to the table, fingers finding a sharp ended pointed of a sealing-brush.

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_Uzumaki Chiyako, one of the fallen Uzushiogakure's survivors. No formal ninja training, proficient in chakra draining seals and wordless genjutsu. Wanted for the murder of the Fire Daimyo's son. Status unknown._

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"Perhaps it would do better to kill you now." She hisses, as he recalls Kushina mentioning several Uzumakis' precognitive abilities.

Minato does not dare use his _chakra_ against her, he knows it will only feed the _genjutsu_. But although he does not have the same raw strength as Jiraiya, he has enough speed to make up for it, and the point of the sealing brush plunges into her left eye-socket and then soft brain tissue, fuelled by disgust and the taste of dark wine on his lips.

Nearly-black blood drips down his fingers, sliding down his wrist as the heat and incense sticks to his clothes. The body slumps to the floor as he moves, and the illusion surrounding the cage dissipates when he opens it.

A large, dark crow caws at him, feathers gleaming glossy black as it lights upon his shoulder. It's claws dig into his skin as it surveys the room with unnerving intensity, before fluttering down to it's dead mistress.

It's eyes look red in the flickering light from the paper lanterns, and Minato turns and walks away as the large bird begins to peck at the corpse's mutilated orb.

* * *

Minato wanders along the winding paths that lead through the circus, past the magicians and acrobats, by the clowns and fire breathing men peddling their tricks to foolish citizens. He blends in with them, the circus folk and drunken civilians alike, a slight _genjutsu_ cast to blur their memories of him afterwards. It can never be said that he does not learn from his opponents.

The heat is thick in his throat, tasting like wine with every breath as his vision wavers. A small _summon_ follows him and he stops to pick up the diamond-eyed snake which curls around his ankle, sensing the powerful _chakra_ signature flicker behind him.

"I see you've made short work of my foolish teammate's habits, Minato-kun." Orochimaru intones as the little snake hisses contentedly at it's master.

"I doubt it will become a habit, Sempai. One night of indulgence seems enough to satisfy Jiraiya-sensei." Minato offers, allowing the cool, dry hand to rest on his arm as the man's amber eyes flicker over his bloodied wrist and shoulder.

"It is interesting that he chose Tanzaku. You seem to leave quite a conspicuous impression when you wish to."

Minato shrugs unconcernedly as Orochimaru gathers his _chakra_ for a joint _Body Flicker_.

"With all their intoxicated celebrations, I'd be surprised if they remember me at all." He remarks.

A large black crow caws in the distance as they vanish.

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Minato wakes to find the sweltering heat from last night cooling, and Jiraiya leaning on the wall beside his head, looking bemused. "Orochimaru says you had quite the evening."

"Nothing in comparison to yours, I'd assume." He shoots back, surprised to find his head clear. Minato glances back at his mentor in surprise, but Jiraiya is already laughing, turning to pick up his pack.

"I figured your resulting hangover from Gamabunta's drinking contest was bad enough for three. No need for you to be irritable and bitchy while we travel Minato. Get dressed and we'll leave. Perhaps you can show me that new _jutsu_ you've been working on."

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_In the morning as he watches his eccentric mentor, he wonders if it is merely a product of his imagination that everything tastes like expensive sake and blood-ink._

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_**Author's Note: A piece on Namikaze Minato's apprenticeship with Jiraiya. I wrote one about Naruto's so I figured fair is fair.**  
_


End file.
